


Paradise

by Iliad06



Series: Something Good [4]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M, Master/Slave, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 09:47:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13268880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iliad06/pseuds/Iliad06
Summary: Torveld wishes he could erase Erasmus's training from his mind, but he'll just have to take it one thing at a time.





	Paradise

If someone asked Torveld to describe paradise, he would have to describe this moment. Erasmus lays beneath him, a light sheen of sweat making his pale skin glisten. A pink flush has taken hold of his cheeks, neck, and collarbones and his blonde curls lay in a wild halo against the soft sheets. The younger man’s pretty face is scrunched in pleasure as he tosses his head back and forth on the pillow, overwhelmed and exactly where Torveld wants him: impaled on his cock and on the brink of orgasm.

Torveld can’t help but lean down to flick his tongue along a sharp collarbone already littered with red and pink marks from his teeth. The young man whimpers but the noise is almost lost beneath the sound of their skin slapping together. Erasmus’s legs are wrapped tight around his hips and his heels dig into Torveld’s backside, pulling the older man back in every time he pulls back.

“Tor, tor,” Erasmus gasps and Torveld groans at the noise. Knows that he’s close. Knows that he just wants to see his little lover lose himself in pleasure.

“Yes, sweet thing, yes,” he growls and nips at Erasmus’s shoulder. The skin turns pink beneath his teeth. “Touch yourself. Let me see you come.”

Erasmus’s eyes widen and he shakes his head wildly. If Torveld wasn’t so close to the edge himself, he would try to slow down, try to understand the sudden tension that grips Erasmus’s body. But he can’t stop. Erasmus is too tight and warm around his cock and with just a few more thrusts, he buries himself as far into the young man as he can and comes. He grips Erasmus’s hips tight and groans into his thin neck as he spurts deep into that tight channel.

When the pleasure has run its course and his spine stops trembling, he pulls back to gaze at Erasmus. The blonde won’t look at him. His eyes are brimming with tears and his face full of shame that Torveld wishes to kiss away. The emotions on his face juxtapose his cock still standing hard and flushed with pleasure.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Erasmus mutters and his fingers tremble where they grip Torveld’s shoulders. 

Torveld shakes his head and presses a kiss to his hot cheek. “Think nothing of it,” he murmurs as he pulls gently out of Erasmus’s hole, making the young man gasp. Before he can reply, Torveld ducks down, swallows that pink cock down his throat, and twists two fingers deep into his still gaping hole. Erasmus wails and his thighs clench tight around Torveld’s ears as he comes hard. Paradise, Torveld thinks.

Moments later, the pair moves to Torveld’s private bath to allow naturally hot water to wash away the grime of sex and to relax sore muscles. Torveld sits upon a stone shelf cut into the side of the wall and Erasmus sits between his legs, reclining back against his broad chest. Erasmus’s curls are pulled up into a messy knot and secured with a ribbon on the top of his head to keep them out of the water. Still, Torveld is careful as he cups handfuls of water and smooths them over the blonde’s neck and shoulders. He’s tense and Torveld wishes he could rid the younger man of his stress.

“Can we speak of it?” Torveld asks softly.

“I’m sorry, sire. I—"

Torveld hushes him and presses a gentle kiss to his nape. “Do not resort to formalities with me, Erasmus.”

“I’m sorry, my prince.”

Torveld wants to rebuke him but he chuckles. “Clever,” he mutters into a pale ear just to feel Erasmus shudder on his lap.

He pulls back and uses gentle hands to guide Erasmus around to face him instead, pale knees pressed to either side of his hips. Erasmus stares hard at the water that laps against his chest and even though Torveld wishes he would look up, he won’t force it.

“I’m not angry that you didn’t listen to me Erasmus. You can make your own choices, especially when we are in bed together.” He pauses to tuck a stray stand of blonde behind Erasmus’s ear. “I’m just curious. Why wouldn’t you touch yourself?”

Erasmus flushes hard and chews his bottom lip. Torveld waits, knows it’s better to give him time to answer than to force him to do so quickly. 

Erasmus plays with his fingers beneath the water as he says in a voice barely above a whisper, “Slaves are not permitted to touch ourselves. It’s dirty.”

Torveld’s brows meet in his confusion. “You’ve prepared yourself for me before. Is that so different?”

Erasmus nods his head, staring now at a place on Torveld’s collar instead of towards their laps. “We were taught to do that to save our masters the trouble.”

“I see,” Torveld says, fighting to keep his voice even as anger heats the back of his neck and makes the hair on his scalp rise. The preparing and the stroking seem to be two different things in Erasmus’s mind. He takes a moment to formulate a response to each concern he now has. His fingers draw lazy circles on Erasmus’s thin hips and he watches the path they take as he thinks.

“Preparing you will never be trouble to me, you know that, right?” Torveld says, choosing to start with what he hopes is the least troublesome. Over the months they’ve been together, he’s always taken time to prepare Erasmus before taking him and he hopes that those actions speak for themselves, that Erasmus already knows his pleasure is important to Torveld.

“I know,” he says with a wicked little grin. His eyes dance with amusement as he finally looks up at Torveld. “I’ve only done it myself because it makes you wild.” 

Torveld growls and launces forward to nip at the long column of Erasmus’s neck as the younger man erupts into giggles. The pair shares a light laugh and that seems to cut some of the tension between them.

Torveld huffs a little as he leans back and his fingers resume their lazy circles on thin hips. Erasmus’s eyes drop back to the surface of the water and Torveld can practically feel the tension tighten his spine as his gentle smile fades. 

“Your training has taught you a lot that you’ve since realized is false, right?”

Erasmus hesitates, but nods his head.

“Do you think this could be one of those things?”

Honey eyes widen but Erasmus shakes his head, hard. His cheeks flush with shame and his hands wring in his lap. “Torveld, please don’t—” he chokes off, unable or unwilling to tell his master not to do something. Torveld grips his chin with gentle fingers and tilts his face up so their eyes can meet.

“I’m sorry. I won’t push you on this.” He presses a gentle kiss to still swollen lips. When he pulls back, it’s to see a gentle smile and honey eyes swimming with relief. He can’t resist capturing those sweet lips in another kiss. He won’t push, tonight. Instead, he’ll take small, tactical steps to change the younger man’s mind.

***

It takes a few nights before Torveld has a chance to try to change Erasmus’s mind. They sit on the couch in Erasmus’s favorite position: Torveld seated on the cushions with Erasmus’s legs swung over his lap from where he sits sideways, back pressed to the arm of the couch. The book they are currently reading is propped on Erasmus’s knees. Erasmus reads aloud in his sweet voice, a Vaskian myth about a rabbit or squirrel, Torveld lost the focus of the story moments ago when he turned his attention to watching Erasmus’s face, then lips, then the sweep of his golden curls against his lithe neck. 

“Torveeeld,” Erasmus whines with a breathless giggle as Torveld presses his lips to that neck he’s been gazing at for a few moments. His hands shove at Torveld’s shoulders and the stronger man allows himself to be pushed back with a sheepish smile.

“Is my reading so terrible you find yourself distracted?” Erasmus pouts and Torveld leans forward to nip at the jutting bottom lip.

“Of course not, my love,” he says just to see Erasmus’s cheeks flush a light pink. “I just find you irresistible as always.”

Erasmus bites his bottom lip and turns hooded eyes onto Torveld. “Oh? Well, I suppose we can finish the story another night.” 

Torveld grins and plucks the book out of his hand, tossing it onto the table that stands before the sofa. Erasmus wrinkles his nose in distaste at the book’s treatment, but Torveld captures his lips in a deep kiss before he can protest. Erasmus whimpers into his mouth and moves to straddle his hips, making Torveld groan at the new position. He loves when Erasmus is on top almost as much as he loves pinning the young man down. His hands work quickly to divulge them both of their tunics, helped by Erasmus’s nimble fingers. 

When they are finally nude, Torveld thrusts his semi-hard cock up to meet Erasmus’s as Erasmus presses himself down. They both groan. Pleasure warms Torveld’s lap and soon his cock is fully hard and dripping with his pleasure.

A desperation guides the movement of their hips as their mouths meet in an unending kiss. Erasmus makes soft noises—whimpers and gasps—and the noises send a wave of pleasure down Torveld’s spine. He wants to take his time, wants to lay Erasmus down on soft sheets and make him heady with pleasure until he’s begging for release, but he can’t seem to slow down tonight. Luckily, he and Erasmus seem to be of the same mind as the young man twitches and wiggles on top of him, pink tinge of pleasure already brushing across his cheeks and neck.

The thrusts feel amazing, but Torveld wants to drive Erasmus to mindless pleasure now. He aligns their cocks together, still moving in shallow thrusts he can’t seem to stop, and guides one of Erasmus’s clenching hands off his shoulders and down towards their erections. He wraps Erasmus’s fingers around both their cocks and then covers the smaller hand with his own, tightening his fingers so Erasmus tightens his own grip. They both groan at the added friction of Erasmus’s hand around their still moving cocks.

Torveld exhales hard and buries his face in soft skin where Erasmus’s neck meets his shoulder. Pleasure is hot in his lower back and cock and he knows he’s closer to the edge than he should be so soon into their lovemaking. 

“Please, dearest,” he grunts and pulls his hand away from Erasmus’s. “Stroke us both until we come.”

Erasmus’s eyes widen but his hand tightens around their cocks and makes them both gasp at the feeling. His slender fingers slip against their wet skin, smearing pearly liquid from the flushed heads of their cocks and down their hard staffs.

“Yes, love,” Torveld groans and thrusts up, making Erasmus let out a breathy moan. “You’re so lovely like this. So beautiful stroking us both off.”

Erasmus pants at the words and flushes a bright pink that reaches all the way to his chest in a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. His fingers clench tight around sensitive heads and his thumb sweeps over their tips. Between that and the dirty words that continue to pour from Torveld’s mouth, Erasmus shakes apart against him, spurting thick globs of cum onto Torveld’s stomach and cock. The cum slickens Erasmus’s grip and Torveld’s cock thrusts up into that slippery channel only once before he’s coming too, spurred on by Erasmus’s flushed face and gentle trembling.

Erasmus collapses forward against his chest and Torveld enfolds him in strong arms, trailing calloused fingers up and down his shivering spine. They both pant as they come down from the apex of pleasure until the warm tingles leave their arms and toes. Slowly, Erasmus relaxes his full weight against Torveld’s chest and tucks his face into the older man’s neck. His clean fingers trace circles over Torveld’s bulging shoulders.

“Torveld?” he says softly. Torveld hums in response, nuzzling further into fragrant curls and tightening his arms around Erasmus’s slight waist. Erasmus giggles and pushes up from Torveld’s shoulders, even as the man grunts his disapproval and plays at pulling the young man back against him. The blonde presses a gentle kiss to his forehead and Torveld acquiesces.

“Did you like—,” he pauses to nibble his bottom lip. 

“Must you tease me?” Torveld pulls the swollen lip away with a gentle thumb. Erasmus smiles and flicks his tongue against the tip of Torveld’s thumb before ducking his head again, soft blush staining his cheek. Torveld’s chest warms with affection.

“Did I like what?” Torveld prompts and gently bumps his forehead against Erasmus’s temple.

“Did you like me stroking both of us?”

Torveld chuckles. “I believe that was evident given how quickly I peaked.”

Erasmus won’t look at him again and keeps his eyes trained on Torveld’s collarbone instead of meeting his eyes. “Is it because I was touching myself?”

The question gives Torveld pause. He knows he has to consider his words carefully given their conversation a few nights ago, knows that he wants Erasmus to grow past the teachings of his training, but also doesn’t want him to for Torveld’s sake but for his own.

“A bit,” he answers honestly. “I mean, you are beautiful when you stroke yourself. But mainly I love to see you seeking pleasure freely, without thought to your training or to what I would like.”

Erasmus thinks on his answer for a moment before his lips stretch into a gentle, pretty smile. Torveld is breathless for a moment, overwhelmed by the effortless beauty in his lap. _So lucky_ , he thinks and squeezes his arms where they are slung low around Erasmus’s hips.

The blonde leans forward and presses a soft kiss to his lips. “Take me to bed?” he asks against Torveld’s lips before kissing him again. The prince grins into their kiss and wastes no time separating their mouths to answer. Instead, he guides Erasmus’s legs around his hips, settles his hands beneath soft buttocks, and lurches to his feet with a grunt. Erasmus squeals as he’s lifted into the air and then giggles at his own reaction.

“My strong prince,” he says and lays a loud, smacking kiss onto Torveld’s cheek.

***

Another day of diplomatic meetings and guard training has come to an end and Torveld could not be more relieved. The meetings are dull in times of peace and the training today was a simple refresher on how to properly care for one’s weapons. Dull, but necessary. Still, Torveld is happy to hand his training sword off to a squire and make his way towards his rooms and his waiting lover. The sun is already setting, splashing the palace halls in soft orange and yellow. The beautiful sight only fills Torveld’s stomach with cold guilt. He was held back longer than normal today and knows that Erasmus is probably already cleaning their rooms in his own worried way.

Torveld quickens his steps along the stone hall until he comes to the thick wooden doorway of their rooms. He pushes the door open and practically skids to a halt in the doorway. The main room is empty and confusion flood Torveld for a moment. Could Erasmus be late? What would keep him in the library until sunset? It makes no sense. Torveld knows for a fact that Erasmus is attentive and efficient in the library, working with a one-minded determination and eagerness to please that makes the head librarian coo with compliments to Torveld whenever they happen upon each other in the hallway.

The prince muses for a minute more what could have become of his slave when he hears it: a moan muffled into soft bedding. His brows furrow at the noise and he makes quick work of his shoes so he can enter the bedroom without bringing in dirt from the training ground, a rule Erasmus established within days of living in Bazal. He freezes in the doorframe, fingers gripping the wood on either side of him.

Erasmus kneels in the middle of their large bed, legs spread and chest pressed to the sheets. His head lays cradled in a soft pillow and his curls create a wild nest around his skull. His eyes are shut and his face flushed with a soft pink tinge of pleasure. His pale back arches and pushes his backside up and towards the prince. Between the “V” of his legs, Torveld can see Erasmus’s hand working over his own cock in slow strokes. His hips thrust forward in small twitches as if he doesn’t really want to thrust but also can’t keep himself from doing so. Torveld groans at the image before him and only then do honey eyes flick open and glance over his shoulder. 

Torveld thought for a moment that Erasmus was touching himself for his own pleasure, but the impish grin that Erasmus flashes at him makes him reevaluate that thought. 

“My little minx,” he growls and Erasmus whimpers and his hips twitch. “What a beautiful image to come home to.” He steps towards the end of the bed and trails his fingers up the inside of a shuddering thigh, delighting in the soft skin. Erasmus gasps and Torveld pulls his hand away at the noise. He chuckles when Erasmus whines at the loss.

“Uh uh uh, pretty boy,” he tuts as he drags one of the wooden chairs to face the end of the bed. “You’re going to finish what you started, sweetheart.” He punctuates the pet name by kicking his feet up onto the mattress with a gentle bounce. From this angle, he can see Erasmus’s cock, hanging heavy between his legs, his face already pink with a blush, and his plump backside, splitting apart with his small thrusts to show Torveld a glimpse of his pretty, pink hole.

“Please join me, my prince,” Erasmus says and wiggles his hips to entice the older man into the bed with him. Torveld chuckles as he flicks the skirt of his tunic up to give himself access to take his own cock in hand.

“I think I much prefer my current view.” Erasmus blushes hot and hides his face in the pillow for a moment.

“No, love, let me see all of you. Please,” Torveld whines because he can’t stop himself from being so effected by the lithe young man on the bed. 

Erasmus grins a little and turns his face out again so that Torveld can watch the pleasure cross his face as his hand begins to pump his own cock again. He lets out a soft moan and Torveld groans at the noise. He wraps his fingers around the head of his cock and gives it a squeeze as he settles further into the chair, content to stay right here and watch Erasmus for hours. As Erasmus’s hand strokes again and he lets out a breathless little whimper, Torveld knows the young man won’t last for hours.

“How long have you been like this, Erasmus?” Torveld asks as he swipes his thumb through a bead of cum where it has already gathered at the head of his cock.

“Um,” Erasmus chews his bottom lip and his free hand tightens into a fist near his face as his other hand twists down his cock. The pleasure is distracting, but Torveld doesn’t prompt him to answer again, content to watch the young man lose himself in his own touch.

“I started a few minutes b-before… you usually come home, but _ah_ —” he groans and his hips twitch. His pert backside bobs with his pleasure and Torveld groans at the sight his lover makes: face flushed with pleasure, wiggling hips, and his hand stroking faster than before.

“But I was later than normal?” Erasmus nods frantically and his face scrunches and then relaxes as his fingers twist around the red head of his cock.

“Did you come without me here?” 

Erasmus shakes his head and Torveld groans and reaches a hand down to tug at his sacs heavy with pleasure. “I stopped myself, sire.” He whimpers and Torveld watches his hand move between the spread of his legs.

“Are you close, Erasmus?”

“Yesss,” he hisses. His hips thrust forward into the circle of his hand, each movement punctuated by a short moan of pleasure. Torveld squeezes the base of his own cock to stop his own orgasm before it can distract him from watching the beautiful man before him. Erasmus moans and his hand slips over his cock, wet with fluid and dripping onto the sheets below. His hips stutter and lose their rhythm as his orgasm wracks his small body with pleasure. He groans long and low and come spurts between his fingers and onto the bedding. Torveld groans with him and gives his balls another tug, but doesn’t stroke himself just yet.

Erasmus flops onto his side, away from the wet spot, and nuzzles his face into a pillow. Torveld chuckles at the sight, discards his own tunic, and finally moves onto the bed, cock swinging heavy between his legs as he crawls up to sit amongst the pile of pillows. Erasmus snuggles into him, pressing his face against Torveld’s hip and thigh and wrapping his arms and legs around Torveld’s leg. The prince chuckles, swears his younger lover is part squid, and cards his fingers through soft curls. His cock is still hard, pulsing and weeping its pleasure, but he ignores it for now, content to let the young man come down from his pleasure.

“Did you like watching me?” Erasmus asks, cracking one eye open to gaze up at Torveld. 

The older man smiles and brushes golden curls off his neck and shoulder. “I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight.” Erasmus flushes pretty and hums. Torveld is quiet for a moment, tracing his fingers up and down a pale shoulder blade.

“You know,” he says softly, and Erasmus blinks up at him with eyes owlish with leftover pleasure. “You don’t have to do that just for my pleasure. You can pleasure yourself if I am ever busy or away.”

“But—” Erasmus chews his lip.

“Tell me why your training says I’m wrong.”

Erasmus winces and watches his own fingers play along the planes of Torveld’s stomach instead of looking up at the man again. “My pleasure only matter if it brings you pleasure.”

Torveld thought he had heard the worst of Erasmus’s training but that statement alone makes anger flash through is body in a wave of heat. Erasmus must feel him tense because he squeezes his eyes shut as if preparing for Torveld’s anger to lash out at him. The prince takes a deep breath and forces himself to relax.

“Your pleasure is important to me independent of my pleasure.”

“I know, my prince.”

“Your training instilled in you no care for yourself and only for me. I want you to care for yourself.” Erasmus opens his mouth but Torveld squeezes his shoulder to keep him silent for a moment longer so he can finish his thought. “Think of it like you think of reading. You choose to read books that you like because you like them, not because I do. They bring you joy. This can as well.”

Two light eyebrows furrow together as Erasmus turns his words over in his mind. His fingers play with the light trail of hair at the bottom of Torveld’s stomach and his hard cock twitches as if trying to get Erasmus’s attention. The blonde grins a little and looks up at his lover. “I’ll… try,” he says finally.

Torveld grins and leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. “That is all I ever ask.”

Erasmus smiles and props himself up on an elbow to kiss the older man properly. When they part, Erasmus’s smile has turned wicked and before Torveld can question him, slender fingers squeeze around Torveld’s pulsing length and punch a groan out of the depths of his chest.

“Now, can I see to your pleasure?” he asks with a cheeky grin.

Torveld tries to answer but all he can do is choke out a groan as Erasmus leans down to suckle the head of his cock. _Paradise_ , he thinks, an echo of thoughts days ago, and buries his fingers in soft, golden hair.


End file.
